Discreet
by suckersoprano
Summary: Business trips are a killer. Rick attempts to make it better. NSFW


Business trips were a killer, especially working at the same damned place. It meant that when they rolled around, Rick was alone and frustrated for a week or two, if one caught the drift; be it if he was the one tasked with going away or it was Craig's turn. This was a long trip and frankly, it made him cranky; if one more person asked him about his nerves being shot while Craig was gone… he was going to have to… He didn't even know what, but violence came to mind, however inappropriate. Their relationship was on the down-low even, how in the _world_ everyone saw 'horny and lonely' written all over his faced, Rick had not one clue. At least no one made the _specific_ connection yet.

That meant, however, he found himself standing in a cramped, seedy building looking for something to keep himself from going completely nuts while Craig was gone for the last couple more days. 'Smoke shops' weren't ever really reputable places, but Rick didn't care too much, perusing the rows of DVDs marked with hilarious names like '_Tits of Fury'_ and '_Tug Boat' _for a good laugh now and then, or a snicker, as it were. There wasn't anyone there but a cute and chubby college girl reading a magazine and snapping her gum behind the counter, but it still was… like porn store etiquette to be quiet or something.

Bad dialogue and even worse acting were okay for a laugh, but if Rick wanted something he actually could use, he would have to skip the DVD section, which he did, and head straight for the magazines. Leaving something up to the imagination was more his style, anyhow; he didn't need some ridiculous, albeit hilarious setup. What he did need was something subtle and perhaps even a bit classy, if one could categorize anything in this place as such.

He flipped through the stacks and stacks of themed magazines; 18 year-olds, MILFS, bondage, femdom, foreign language, hardcore, softcore, everything in-between and then some. Nothing really struck his fancy, he realized with a frustrated sigh and a hand raked through his thick, dark hair. He was looking for _something_ he knew he wouldn't get while dating Craig; something with a well-endowed chest and curves, or the like. Not that he was at all displeased with anything about Craig, his tastes were just diverse. It was… complicated. He didn't really want to dwell on it right at that moment.

Disappointed in his findings, he turned to leave, but froze right as his eyes moved past the magazines filled with men in similar poses as the magazines he'd been looking at previously. Normally, he'd just pass that by, since he wasn't looking for that particular flavor right now, but something made him stop. There was a newer magazine in front of several old ones with a thin man with pale blonde hair that looked… awfully familiar. It clearly _wasn't _him, with a lack of glasses and slightly tanned skin, but his hair was cut… sort of similar, and his eyes were a light blue. Still light, but obviously not pink… The man was lying on his stomach with his cheek resting on his hand, looking somewhat bored… almost condescending. That was a familiar look if Rick had ever seen one.

The way the expression made his mouth go a little dry meant that he didn't have much choice when he moved to pick it up, dragging it to the counter where the girl behind it gave him a knowing look under her eyelashes. Rick shifted a little and tried not to meet her gaze. It wasn't any of her business anyway and if she knew the extent of it, he'd be even more embarrassed. Buying a magazine because it looked like one's absent boyfriend sounded kind of pathetic if he thought about it, and he'd really prefer not to. He tossed the black bag in the passenger seat of the car and tried to think of other things while he drove back to his apartment.

As soon as he got home was when he could think about it, though. It was about time to turn in; Rick sat propped up in bed with just his boxers, flipping through some of the other sets of photographs of similarly thin, young-looking men. Rick hadn't even bothered to look at the title when he picked it up; it hadn't mattered at the time. The word 'twink' was involved in it and the word even made Rick grimace a little. That wasn't exactly tasteful and god help whomever felt like they could even think to call Craig that. He realized he _was_ calling Craig that in a roundabout way, considering the model he was looking for bore an uncanny resemblance to him; that really wasn't his fault, not at all.

He reached the spread of the cover model, assessing the pictures. Rick couldn't help himself comparing the two; the model seemed more playful and obviously posed than his memories of Craig. They both had that small, teasing smile, though, but the model lacked that glint in his eye that Craig had occasionally. It was something that drove him crazy, but it was close enough… Hell, the model was even _smaller_ than Craig was, at least in the junk department, build-wise, they were about the same. There was really only one glaringly and annoying obvious difference and that was the fact that he wasn't wearing glasses. They weren't terribly common in porn in general, which hadn't really bothered Rick before now. With a snort of amusement, he got up and pulled a sharpie off of his desk, moving back to the bed and flipping to the cover.

Craig wore very circular glasses, he was surprised he could summon up the image of such a small detail. Carefully, he drew the same shape on the face of the model and held it up with a laugh of amusement.

"S'pretty close now," he mumbled to himself with a silly grin, "Don't got pink eyes, but it'll hafta do."

He scribbled a pair of glasses on to the rest of the photographs of the model in the magazine. Now… it was surprisingly much easier to think of this magazine model as Craig… A quick skim of the article later, he found it was even simpler now. It talked about how he liked to be a tease, how he liked bigger men with broad shoulders, how he liked to highlight an oral fixation when flirting… That made images of Craig's tongue running across his bottom lip while he talked, the way he liked to suck on his spoon when eating…

It looked like the desired effect was achieved; Rick folded the magazine over to a picture he particularly liked and pressed the heel of his hand against his growing erection. The model was turned around, giving the viewer a nice view of his full, round ass; he was glancing over his shoulder with his teeth digging into his lip, looking like he was anticipating something. The glasses helped him remember seeing that very look on Craig's face more than once. Pressed against a wall, bent over a desk or counter, gripping the headboard; Rick squeezed himself through the material of his boxers before pulling them down and squeezing at the base of his cock.

He flipped over the magazine; the next picture was better. The model was on his back with his eyebrows drawn together and his legs drawn up slightly. He gripped the bedspread he was laying on and his arousal in the other hand, with picture only showing part of his body. The aroused and slightly nervous expression looked as though he were getting prepped or very, _very_ slowly fucked. Rick let out a heavy breath and started to move his hand, stroking himself just as slow as the pace he imagined. He could vividly imagine Craig's hands scrabbling at his shoulders, his breathy whimpering in his ear, urging, _begging_ him to go faster because it felt so _good._

"_Fuck_," Rick gasped softly, moving a little faster.

The page was hurriedly flipped; the model had a fingertip pressed to his mouth, suckling gently. Rick groaned loudly, dropping the magazine while he pumped himself faster; images of Craig's lips wrapped around his cockhead sprang to his mind's eyes, just how good he was with that damned tongue as it swirled down his shaft. The grip on his arousal was tightened when he imagined a tentative _sucking_ and soon he could almost feel his fingers digging into Craig's soft blonde hair, pulling him into the shallow bucking of his hips. Rick had to wet his lips to clear his mind a little, glancing down at the magazine, the sight of the model with his head thrown back, his hands similarly working his length with thin fingers from both hands wrapped round his cock elicited a low moan from the back of Rick's throat.

Efficient and exploring, that was something else that they shared, Rick realized when he thought of all of the times he'd watched Craig do the same to himself. He panted hard, stroking faster with his other hand draped across the magazine haphazardly. That discovery sent an odd spike of pleasure through his body; he took a shuddering deep breath and rocked his hips into his grip.

"_Fffuck, aungh, …Craig,"_ he groaned as quietly as he could muster.

He nearly tore the page flipping to the next one, groaning unabashedly loud at the sight of the Craig-like model covered in streaks of his own come with his face drawn into an expression of ecstasy. It was a different expression than he was accustomed to, but it made him think of the one he _was_ used to seeing. Head thrown back and body sweat-slicked and drawn taut like a bow, that was what he was thinking of; smaller hands gripping his wrists while he thrust into him hard, gripping his cock tightly and bringing them both off as hard and as fast as Rick could manage. The face Craig wore was wild and desperate, matched only by unashamed moaning and attempts to thrust right back down.

Rick hadn't realized he'd shut his eyes until they snapped back open because he was close. That final image of Craig beneath him, trying to hasten the friction between them with a frantic bucking of his hips did him in, "_Haahhn, shit! Gggod!_" he swore, coming into his stroking hand harder than he'd ever gotten himself off before.

Panting, chest heaving, Rick squeezed the rest of the come from his quickly softening length and got up to wash his hands of the sticky mess. He came back to bed with the magazine still splayed out on the bed like a well-loved bedmate. With a little bit of a grin on his face, he scooped the magazine up and carefully hid it in the first drawer of his bedside table. He might have to get rid of it later, but that could wait until _after_ Craig got home. Rick fell asleep that night and slept more soundly than he had in a long time. Maybe he'd keep it longer than that, even…


End file.
